How often
I have passed
by your side
rushing
to be in time
for my chained
routine.
You were one of many more
In the landscape
solidified
of my madness
imprisoned
in a race
without sense
against myself.
But one morning
of sorrows
that weighed down
my forays,
I looked back
towards your chest
rough-barked
And there I discovered
an open heart
appealing to mine
too wrapped up
in the troubles
of the life.
Tree of my path
Who opened your heart?
Was it nature?
Or a mad lover?
Whoever it was
opened mine too
one morning
of sorrows
that weighed down
my forays.
And the sleeping love
That lives in me
woke up
in a sweet
surprise
flooding
my day
with sweet joy.
© Olga Brajnovic
